Protect and Serve: a Fight or Flight ficlet
by Sexy Meat Pies
Summary: Bass has always loved Lindsay. Now, in this world without power, she needs him to protect her. And he needs her to keep him sane. (Companion POV one-shot)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: another POV one-shot for ****_Fight or Flight. _****A look into how Bass sees Lindsay. Reviews are, as always, lovely. :)**

* * *

Bass' POV

**Eight weeks after the Blackout...**

"Lindsay, stay back!" Miles calls, from through the thick layer of trees. We had run off when we heard a struggle.

"Miles," She pleads, "what-"

"I swear to God, Linds, if you don't stay back there!" Miles warns.

"I'd just get the hell away if I were you," I tell the huge man before us. He'd been beating a much smaller man near to death.

"No," Miles says, still pointing the gun, "_Don't_ move."

"Miles?" I ask. _What's he doing?_

"That couple... up the road?" Miles asks. I sigh. He's so worked up over that. "That _was_ you. Thought so." Then, Miles shoots. I watch, with wide eyes, as he shoots the other man too.

"Nobody's coming to help," He turns to me, "Nobody."

"Miles, what did you do?" Lindsay whispers. We turn to see her staring at us with wide eyes, in shock and in fear.

"Didn't I tell you to stay away?" Miles asks her.

"What happened?" She demands, her voice faint. Her eyes fall on the two dead bodies and she let out a small scream, covering her mouth. "Did you do this!?"

"He had to, Linds." I answer, right away, "The man was threatening me." She looks at me, and rushes over. She immediately moves my hair, and feels around for injury.

"Oh my God, are you ok?" She asks, her hands on the crook between my neck and shoulders. Miles looks at me, some sort of understanding look in his eyes.

"I'm fine." I assure her, giving a fake, but convincing laugh to prove it. I move her hands. "I'm fine, baby."

"Hey, lovebirds," Miles calls. "Little help?" I look up to see him helping up a very beaten up man. I let go of Lindsay to help him.

"What... who is this?" She asks.

"This is the guy those men were going to kill." Miles replies.

"Oh..." She whimpers. I look at her and see her eyes on the bodies, her small nose wrinkled. The smell just hit her.

"I got him." Miles nods to the man, looking at his sister, then at me.. "Get her out of here."

I lead her away, to a pond with a little clearing. I sit her down by the water and get her a drink. Miles is along in a few minutes, half carrying the man. He sits him down near us.

"Can you take care of him?," Miles asks her. He lifts up his gun. "Bass and I are gonna go catch something."

"O-ok." She agrees reluctantly. I smile, reassuringly, kissing her quickly, before following Miles.

"I'm sorry I lied to her, Miles," I say quickly. "But she, uh, if she knew, you know, she'd freak out."

"I know, Bass," He says dryly. Miles hardly ever says anything without sounding dry these days. "I agree, actually."

"Agree with what?"

"That we lie to Lindsay about this," He says simply.

"Ok, great, but Miles..." I look to the pond, then back to him, "This isn't gonna happen again, is it?"

"Bass, this_ will_ happen again," He nods in the direction of the nearly dead man. "People like him, they're gonna get jumped. The question is: do we stop it? Or do we just keep letting those dicks murder people like that woman back there? Like _Lindsay_?"

"What are you saying?" I stare at him.

"I'm saying we should do something," He replies.

"Hunt people down?" I ask incredulously. "Miles, we're not police, we're-"

"Yeah, Bass, the police are _gone,_" He asks. "And if not us, who? Who's gonna protect those people? Like we protect Lindsay?" And then walks away, back towards the pond. He's right, of course, we do protect her. That's what it's always been about for us. It's not that she's weak. But all this death... she's not used to that. Miles and I did three tours, we've seen this. We're used to it. She's not. And we have to protect her. _I _have to protect her.

* * *

**Three years after the Blackout**

"Bass?" Lindsay calls, softly. I look behind me. My eyes focus on her coming down the steps towards me. I blink several times, as the room gets brighter, because she's carrying a candle.

"Lindsay, hey," I sniff, wiping some sweat off my forehead. "What, uh, what are you doing up?"

"Are you drunk?" She asks. I laugh bitterly. She _would_ ask that.

"Yeah, Linds, I am," I throw my hands up. "I'm drunk."

"Are you still drinking?" She asks, coming to sit beside me. God, she's beautiful. I vaguely wonder if she's this pretty to everyone, or just me. But dear God, she's _gorgeous_. Not sexy gorgeous, either, which she can be. But just a quiet kind of beautiful.

"Yes," I admit, "Yeah, I am." I shake the nearly empty whiskey bottle. "You want some?"

"No, I don't," She frowns. "Bass, you're going to make yourself sick." Oh, Lord, I love the way she talks. So proper. She says 'going to' not 'gonna'. And 'want to' never 'wanna'. It's like when she sings, and she emphasizes the consonants. I don't know how those two things relate. I'm just really drunk.

"I'm... I'm fine, Linds," I mutter. She shakes her head, and slips the bottle from my fingers.

"I know about Shelly and the baby," She murmurs. "And I'm so sorry. But you need to stop. Stop drinking. Just go to sleep. And... and let Ben and Rachel and I help you for a bit."

"I can't just settle down, Lindsay," I whispers. "Miles used to talk about starting a sort of police force. Like, a militia. Linds, what if we took it farther?"

"I don't understand," She cocks her head.

"What if we started a country?" I grin. _What am I saying?_ "America is practically gone. And... and it would be fair, and we'd have some law and order and... Miles and I and you could run it. And we'd be comfortable, and this wouldn't happen again!"

"What are you saying, Bass?"

"Lindsay, will you start a country with me?" I am _so_ drunk.

"Bass," She giggles, her eyes lighting up. _They're so green!_ "No, I won't start a country with you. But if you want to start some sort of law and order, I will support you the whole way."

"I really missed you, you know that?" I ask. And I have. I've missed her so much the past year. I'd never would have been with Shelly, if Lindsay never left.

"I missed you, too," She smiles. "I wanted to come back, but Miles said... nevermind."

"What... what did Miles say?"

"He told me you were with someone else," She murmurs.

"I _never_ loved her like I love you," I whisper. She looks at me steadily.

"I love you, Sebastian," She says, closing her eyes.

"I love you too, Lindsay." I murmur back, kissing her for the first time in a year. "Always have, always will."

* * *

**Four and a half years after the Blackout**

I walk next to Miles, as we lead the troops home to Philly, after our first successful campaign. I look over at Miles.

"Drinks?" I flash a grin. He shrugs and grins back. I turn around and face our troops. _Our troops_. We've got an army... "Drinks at the nearest bar, courtesy of the general and I!" They all cheer. Miles cocks an eyebrow.

"You got that much money?" He asks.

"Miles, please," I laugh. "I'm the _president of the Republic_. We don't need money." He chuckles and we make our way to a bar. Because of our influence, we have a short wait. I raise my scotch to Miles and he lifts his whiskey.

"One day more to Philly." He says happily.

"Yeah," I sigh. One more day to an actual bed. To decent food. To _Lindsay_. Oh God... I've missed her. It's been four months. "What are we going to tell Lindsay?"

"What do you mean?", He asks, taking a drink.

"C'mon, Miles," I look at him, "You gotta admit the death toll was really high on both sides."

"Lindsay knows how war works, Bass," He looks at me like I'm crazy. "We tell her the truth, for once: we were putting down militias, rebels."

"And the rebel you had tortured, Miles? What about that?"

"She doesn't need to know about that." He says simply, taking a drink.

"I don't know, man, I just don't like lying to her so much."

"We are protecting her," He says, "Bass, c'mon, where were those rebels headed?"

"Philly," I say, dully, knowing where he's going with this.

"And where is Lindsay?"

"Philly."

"And what would've happen if we hadn't interrogated that man?"

"They might've made it... to Philly." I stare at the ceiling.

"And Lindsay would be...?"

"Killed."

"_Or_?" He asks.

"Or worse."

"Or _worse_," He repeats. "Exactly. _I_ don't want my sister hurt, _you_ don't want my sister hurt. My sister is _fine._ And so are the people that the war clans were trying to butcher. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yeah," I roll my eyes. I swear, he treats me like a child, sometimes.

"Good, then." He says. Then, lowers his voice, "And, Bass, I admit, this campaign was rough. But it'll get better. I promise. We are only doing what we have to to keep the people safe."

"I know." I mumble. "Sorry."

"Besides, it's over now," He says, clinking my glass with his, "One more day and then it's behind us."


	2. Chapter 2

Bass' Pov

**Seven Years After the Blackout**

It came out of nowhere. Lindsay had insisted on going home, to Jasper, to see her parents. She understood that I had bad memories of the place, and said she would go by herself, or with Miles. But, I wanted to come with her. After all, our anniversary is in a week, and I think I've grown the balls to propose. I have a ring. And I want to ask her somewhere special. Somewhere she cares about: the old train station. And I want her to be able to tell her parents in person. I don't know why she suddenly wanted to go home, but she just came into my room the other night and brought it up. Like I said, it came out of nowhere.

"Bass?" Her quiet voice comes, from the covered wagon. She pokes her head out. "Can we stop for a moment? I'm thirsty."

"Of course," I smile, and kiss her. "I think there's a stream close," I slow the horses and listen for the trickling of water.

"What's up?" Miles calls, pulling the covering aside.

"We're stopping to rest," I inform him. He nods and goes back inside. I stop the wagon and hop down, then hold out my hand for Lindsay. She grabs it and hops down, nearly falling. I catch her easily and hold her hand, walking to the water. I feel Miles follow. Before we had so much of a reputation, I would worry about leaving the wagon unattended. But it's a militia wagon, with the symbol. Nobody's going to take that.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Lindsay breathes. I look up and see that she's right. The sun is just setting, reflecting off a water fall that tumbles into the pond. The soft colours are shattered across the water, making it an unnatural shade of orange and purple. It's beautiful. What if I asked tonight? Right now? I pick up the canteen and fill it up, and then hand it to Lindsay. I fill mine as well, and drink.

"Miles, you want some?" I ask, noticing he left his bottle behind.

"No, thanks," he mutters, "water makes me sick." Lindsay snorts.

"Just drink, you idiot," She rolls her eyes, tossing him get canteen. He buffs but does as she says. She looks at me, "I'm going to change."

"Ok," I smile. She nods, and walks off, out of sight. I look at Miles, "How much longer, do you think?"

"Uh, we're around Columbia," He shrugs, "Probably about... two days, day and a half, something like that?"

"Cool," I mutter, then frown, "Miles, what if your parents aren't too happy to see us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what if Ben is there?"

"Have we not been trying to find him?"

"But _Lindsay _is with us, Miles," I lower my voice, "If he tells her-"

"Tells her what?" He snaps. "Ben thinks Rachel went to get supplies too, apparently. He's clueless."

"Are you sure?"

"Bass, it's fine," he sighs, "please, stop worrying."

"Miles, I'm sorry if I'm a little paranoid," I retort, "I'm only trying to-" I'm cut off by a scream._ Lindsay! _I look at Miles, and run towards the screaming, after him. He's faster, though. I hear a shot. "_LINDSAY!_" I shout. "Linds!" Miles breaks through the trees, his sword now bloody, Lindsay in his arms. He looks terrified. Though, not as terrified as his sister.

"Wh-What happened?" I whisper.

"There was a man," Miles says, his voice shaking, "He had a gun, I don't know how... but he-he attacked her. I don't know why, or what he did."

"My necklace!" She gasps, bolding her hand to a bullet wound in her side. It scraped it, so it's not too bad, but she's bleeding a lot. "He tried to take my clock. He... he grabbed at me, at my clothes," she shuts her eyes, as I'm filled with rage. That man tried to do a lot worse than take her necklace. "And then he saw the necklace, and he tried to come after me again, so I screamed. I told him my brother was General Miles Matheson, and he pulled out a gun, and called me... horrible things," she squeezes her eyes shut tighter, "he jumped on me, so I kneed him in the gut, and he shot me! He shot me, Bass!" She keeps repeating that same sort of thing over and over again.

"Get her to the wagon," I say to Miles, "Go!" He runs toward the cart and lays her on the blankets piled on the floor.

"Get a shirt, stop the bleeding," he says. "As best as you can."

"Where can we take her?" I say frantically, as she whimpers in pain. "We're too far from Philly..."

"It's not the ideal option," he groans, "but it's the only one we have. We gotta take her to Drexel."

"Drexel?" I repeat, "_Drexel!"_

"We don't have a choice!" He shouts back, flipping the reins, and the cart goes with a lurch.

"No..." Her feeble voice calls, "I don't w-want to go there. I don't like how he... he looks at me. He kept... kept t-touching my leg at-at dinner."

"No, not happening," I growl, "Miles, turn it around. Anything, _anywhere,_ but there."

"Don't have a choice, Bass!" He yells, over his shoulder. I grunt, and press the cloth to Lindsay's wound. She screams.

"Its ok, baby," I murmur, kissing her forehead. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you." I can't lose Lindsay. I just can't. I love her too much. I can't live without her.

"Promise me y-you won't leave me," She whispers.

"Only if your promise the same," I reply.

* * *

"Thank you, Drexel, really," Miles says to the man as I pace.

"Hey," Drexel waves it off. "No problem, General." He walks to the bed Lindsay is laying on and puts his hands on it, leaning over her. I don't like the look on his face. So greedy. "She is... something else."

"You don't even know her," I snarl.

"Never said I did," He smirks, "I'm just saying, she's beautiful." He walks closer to her, and lays his hand way too close to her body.

"I think we can handle it from here, Drexel," Miles says, equally hating this. "I left the gold on your coffee table."

"Appreciated," He grumbles, and stalks out.

"How long until we can get her out of here?" I ask Miles as soon as he's gone.

"We'll have to wait until she wakes up," He mutters. I go back to pacing.

"Tell me you killed that bandit,"

"I did."

"Good."

"Bass?"

"Yeah, Miles?"

"Were you gonna propose to her?"

I stop, and face him, "How'd you know that?"

"I found the ring when we were packing up last night," He murmurs. "When were you gonna do it?"

"Some time when we got to Jasper," I confide, "On our anniversary."

"Will you still do it?"

"I don't know," I mutter. "We need to get back to Philly, where she can get proper care. We can't go home. Not now."

"I know." He agrees. After a few minutes of silence and passing of a whiskey bottle, we hear Lindsay.

"Where am I?"

"Oh, Linds!" Miles breathes in relief. "We're at Drexel's."

"Oh," she says, and then her face twists into unhappiness, "Where is he?"

"Somewhere downstairs," Miles assures her, "He barely saw you."

"Good," She snaps, "Can we leave, then?"

"Do you think you can walk?" I ask. She snorts and throws off the blankets, standing up on wobbly legs.

"I can make it to the wagon," She mutters. "Lets just get the hell out of here."

I smile, "That's my girl."

* * *

**Fifteen years after the Blackout**

I bolt up from my drunken sleep as one of my soldiers calls me. I shout something back, although I have no idea what they said. I'll find out when I get out there. I move a little and the prostitute from last night's leg falls off of mine. I look down at her, as I pull on pants.

She has brown hair, of course. They all have brown hair, and green eyes. Not quite the right shade, though. Never the exact green that Lindsay's were. _Are, _I remind myself_ ,just because she left you doesn't mean she's gone from existence. _What if she is, though? I've never thought she could survive alone out there as it was, and she was bleeding when she left.

Why did she leave? Of course, I know the answer to that. Because I hurt her. But I don't think I could help it! She made me so angry, but I also just needed her to love like she used to! And then, I just wanted her so badly, I had to do what I did. I throw on a plain gray t-shirt and then the militia jacket over it. I start buttoning it when I hear a low moan, as the girl on my bed wakes up. She rolls over, and pulls some blankets over her body, like she owns the place. She throws her arm over her face, revealing several spots where she's injected heroin. Another very un-Lindsay thing about her.

"Are you going to just leave?" She asks, without emotion. I freeze, my hands still on the buttons. Lindsay used to ask me that jokingly. I'd let her get a few hours more of sleep and go to my office, and she'd laugh and ask me just that. Of course, after Miles left and I started forcing her to do this, she couldn't wait for me to leave. She'd just lay curled up on the bed, and wait for me to leave. Sometimes she'd cry. Sometimes she'd just lay there and hate me. I'm a monster. Truly I am.

"I left the diamonds on the dresser," I mutter. "You can grab them on your way out."

"Gee, thanks," she snorts. I look back at her. Her hair is messy and her eyes are sleepy. She looks upset. Why? I have her money. Isn't that what all prostitutes want? Money?

"Is there something else you want?" I snap. Why won't she just leave? Go feed her little addiction with my diamonds?

"No, _General_," she retorts, "what more could I want?" Ok, that sounded _too_ much like Lindsay. I stare at her. What is this whore's problem? She mutters something that sounds like 'freedom'. Maybe that's it. Maybe she's not here by choice. It's possible she's someone like one of "Drexel's Girls". Forced to be an addict, and willing to do anything to get the next dose. Were his men really doing things like that? But then, why would this one be different than any other militia in history? Oh wow. _That_ sounds like Linds.

"Who are you?" I ask her, cautiously.

"Isn't it obvious?" She it bitterly, "I'm a whore."

"No, I meant... who _were_ you?"

After a moment, she says, "It doesn't matter now." She meets my eyes. "Who I was doesn't really matter. Because this is who I am now. And I die, no one is going to remember the innocent farm girl named Lucy. They're going to remember the heroin addicted prostitute. They're going to remember the Militia's whore."

"My men took you, didn't they?" I ask quietly. Because, no, I didn't take the girl personally, but I feel responsible.

"Don't act like you didn't know," She sneers, pulling on her short, lowcut dress, and then high heels.

"I honestly didn't," I say, as soft as possible.

"Well, yes," She answers, finally, "They did. Came into my village for taxes, my village didn't have them ready." She looks back at me, flashing a bitter smile, "I was the replacement payment."

"Do you really believe it doesn't matter who we were?" I ask. She's brave, talking to like this. Most of the girls are terrified of me. Do their job and hurry out, diamonds in their hands.

"I'm not really in a position to cling to the past," She murmurs, "it only hurts more."

"Well, do you we think we _can_ be the people were?" I ask. I'm referring, of course, to who I was before. The man Lindsay loved, before I became this psychopath.

"God, I hope so," She breathes. "Who are you trying to be, General?"

"Someone better than I am now." I reply, mostly to myself.

"Then _stop_ being who you are now," she says. I ponder it, and then go to my closet and pull out a large bag of diamonds. I hold it out to her.

"Here."

"Ok, woah, I'm not _that_ good," she laughs nervously.

"It's not for last night," I say, actually laughing a little. I make her take the bag, and she holds it awkwardly. "I'm trying to help. Take this money, and go through the old subway tunnels that run under the city. There's a door in the back of the main bar, you know the one?"

"Where most of my clients come from?" She asks, "Yeah, I know it."

"Good." I sigh, "if someone catches you, tell them," I pause, readying myself to say her name, "tell them you have information on Lindsay Matheson. They'll bring you straight to me, and I'll help you."

"Seriously?" She asks, her face lighting up with hope. I see some of that innocent girl she spoke of.

"Yes."

"Thank you, General," She says, really meaning it. It's been a long time since anyone has said anything sincere to me.

"Good luck, Lucy." I reply. "Now go. I have to see what those bastards who work for me want."

* * *

**yay, more Bass, right?! Lol. I wanted some more Bass POV stuff, so I added these because this is more of a compilation of one-shots rather than an actual story. I did that last one because I wanted to show that Bass has been trying to get better. And he's finding out that he doesn't have as much control over his boys as he thought. I liked it a lot. (BTW Lucy is based on an actual naked woman we saw in Bass' bed in season one. :0 lol. Review!)**


End file.
